


So I Showed Up At Your Party

by palewallowsinpvris



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Maeve Wiley Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palewallowsinpvris/pseuds/palewallowsinpvris
Summary: My own take on how the aftermath of Otis' rant should have gone. Writing might be a little wonky because I haven't written in over a year, but... Yeah.Inspired by the songbettyby Taylor Swift.
Relationships: Otis Milburn & Maeve Wiley, Otis Milburn/Maeve Wiley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Inspiration taken from Taylor Swift's song _betty_. First time writing about this couple and first time writing in over a year, so... be kind?**
> 
> **Would recommend listening to the song while reading, by the way. Preferably _the long pond studio sessions_ version. It's a little more intimate sounding. Some lyrics can be seen for Otis' perspective, but the focus will mostly be on Maeve.**
> 
> **Also, I'm not British. So when it's diverging from the canon, it's most likely gonna sound very American. Maybe even a little OOC. Sue me. I'm sorry.**

_What the fuck are you doing?_

Maeve heaved a sigh as she dropped her gaze from the small mirror in her room to her outfit, twisting this way and that to look at it. It wasn't much, honestly, she wasn't one to dress up, but... She picked her eyes back up to the mirror and raised her hand to run it through her hair. She left it there for a moment at the back of her head. Her hair ruffled between her fingers, she shook her head.

_Stupid. This is stupid._

Her nose scrunched up slightly and her hand fell to her hip, her other lifting to mirror it. She was over thinking it. She knew that. It was just a stupid party. She's been to stupid parties before. Not too many, because she didn't like parties, but she's been. Yeah. Just another stupid party.

A stupid party at Otis' house.

_...Fuck me._

Maeve collapsed onto her bed in exasperation, her elbows resting on her knees and her face falling to her hands. This wasn't just any stupid party. It was a stupid party hosted by stupid fucking Otis Milburn. Yeah, it was Otis that was stupid. Which made the party stupid. Which made this whole fucking thing _stupid_.

... She really needed to stop using that word so much.

She sighed again and pressed her hands together before her face, closing her eyes. Why did she agree to go to this? Why did she let Eric get into her head? Why was she going through all this trouble when Otis said himself that they shouldn't see each other anymore?

That _he_ couldn't see her anymore.

What the hell did Eric know, anyway? He's only Otis' best friend. She didn't know Eric all that well personally. Hell, for all she knows, he was completely full of shit and didn't know what he was talking about. Otis had made his feelings clear, she thought. From when she tried confessing to him, to him ignoring her apology, to him choosing Ola over her. He wanted nothing to do with her. And at this point, she wasn't sure she wanted anything to do with him.

No. That was a lie. She wanted everything to do with him, despite how sickening it was to even admit it to herself. Maeve Wiley, the hardass '"cock biter".. practically head over heels over some dickhead?

Who would've guessed?

Aimee would have, really. She was the only other person (apart from Otis, at one point), that understood her better than anyone else. She was the first person to help her come to terms with her feelings for him. She was a ditz, but she was a great friend and Maeve was truly grateful to have someone like her in her life.

As if speaking of the devil himself, Maeve's phone chimed beside her on the bed and she dropped one hand to grab it. The notification was from Aimee and she unlocked her phone to read the message properly.

_Aimes [6:44pm]:_

_Party at Otis'! Are you going?_

Maeve couldn't help but quirk a small smile to herself and she took her other hand from her face to type a response.

 _Fuck it,_ she thought. _What else have I got to lose?_

_Maeve [6:45pm]:_

_Yeah, be there soon_

Hitting send, she locked her phone back and slid it into her pocket. She gave one more look to the mirror, another once over to her outfit, and decided touching up her mascara wouldn't hurt. She stood from her bed, grabbing her makeup from beside the mirror, and stepped out into the dining/kitchen area, sliding into the seat beside Elise and smiling at her. She at least had to wait for her mom to get back before she could leave. And it didn't hurt to spend a little time with her sister. After all, she'd come to love the little shit despite it all. She cracked open her tiny mirror and went to work on her lashes.

It didn't take too much longer for her mom to get home, thankfully. She looked up when she heard the key in the lock and the door creak open, her mother's silhouette passing over the window before she appeared herself.

"Hi, my babies," She said as she shuffled in, closing the door behind her. She shrugged off her jacket and purse, setting them down.

Maeve smiled. "Hi, Mum." Her smile only lasted for a second when she caught a glimpse of her mother's running makeup and she sat up a little straighter. "You been crying?"

"Huh?" A look akin to a deer caught in headlights flashed across Erin's face when her gaze turned to her daughter, but she shook her head and even attempted a small smile. "Allergies," she claimed. She made her way over to the kitchen, grabbing a cup and filling it with water.

"These bloody plants are trying to kill me, I think." Erin chuckled as she moved over to pour some of the water into the pot of the plant beside her. She then passed over to the other one in the small living area, giving a glance back at Maeve. Maeve could see her smile try to become more genuine. "Good job they're pretty, eh?"

With the cup empty, Erin returned her full attention back to her daughter. "How was school?"

Maeve found herself smiling again. "I got back on the quiz team." She announced, the pride she felt unusual but... good to her. And the way her mom started towards her with the beginnings of a proud, pleasantly surprised smile made it better. "And we're going to the finals." She glanced to Elsie, clearing her throat to prepare herself for what she was about to suggest next. "And I have two tickets for family, and it would mean a lot if you could be there."

"Yeah, of course I'll be there." Erin said. She didn't even hesitate, and relief washed over Maeve.

"Cool." She said. God, had she ever smiled this much or this hard?

_Around Otis-_

_'Shut up.'_

Her mother looked her over and smiled wider in an amused way. "Why are you all dressed up?"

Maeve took a second to look at her outfit, almost forgetting how she was done up, and adjusted her shirt. "I'm going to a party."

"Ah," Her mother set the cup down on the counter. "Well, who's the boy then?"

_Oti-_

"No, there's no boy, Mum." Maeve caught herself. She stood up from the couch and shuffled past her mother. "I'll see you later."

She didn't make it fully past her before she reached out to tickle at her sides, making her jump. "Go on, what's his name?" Erin encouraged excitedly.

Maeve swatted her away and turned around, though she was still smiling. "Stop it! There is no boy." She looked to her sister as she cracked open the door. "Bye, Els."

Erin started to mock her by making kissy noises, using her hands to mimic the way teens would grab onto each other as they made out, and Maeve rolled her eyes with a laugh.

"Grow up," she joked. She stepped out, about to close the door until her mother caught it. She poked her head out.

"You're gonna catch a chill if you don't put on something warmer." Erin chastised.

"I'll be fine, Mum." Maeve said, trying to step further away.

"Just... bring something just in case?"

Maeve looked at her mother, ready to deny her again when she saw true concern riddled on her face. Something she never thought she'd see from her again, to be honest. It's like she was practically begging with her eyes. She breathed in slowly to huff a sigh, tossing her hands up lightly in defeat. "Fine," she caved, and it was worth seeing her mother smile in relief.

She headed back up the steps and slipped through the door past her mum back to her room. She looked about the few clothes strewn about on her floor and bed, only a couple of them long sleeve and only one of those two thick enough to be any sort of protection from the impending cool air the night would bring. She could she it poking out from under her blankets and pillow, the seemingly dingy greenish color evident against her sheets.

Otis' sweater.

Maeve bit the inner corner of her lip.

_No, no. Bad idea. Don't you even think-_

"Have a good time, sweetheart." Her mother said as she passed by her.

And she was stepping out of her home with the sweater folded over her arms.

* * *

Why she allowed an asshole like Isaac to accompany her to the party of a boy she had feelings for was something she'd never understand as they approached the steps leading down to Otis' house.

At least her mom was right about bringing something warm, she figured, now clad in Otis' sweater. She ran her hands over the sleeves a bit.

"Well," Isaac started, his gaze not moving from the stairs. "This isn't exactly disability-friendly, is it?"

"Yeah, well, you wanted to come so," Maeve countered.

"And you didn't think about this stairs versus wheelchair situation." Isaac concluded. He looked up at her and she rolled her eyes lightly.

No, she really didn't. But then again, he wasn't supposed to be here anyway.

_That's not an excuse to be an asshole._

Her expression scrunched up apologetically and she looked back at him. "I'm sorry." She said. She took a couple steps backwards. She was already starting to regret this whole idea and she wasn't even in the damn house yet. "Let's just go home."

"I'm not going home." Isaac all but scoffed. "I am here to par-tay." That got Maeve to smile. "But that does mean you're gonna have to carry me down these stairs."

"Are you joking?" Maeve lifted a brow, hardly noticing the person brushing past Isaac's chair.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" Isaac retorted. He turned his attention to the person that walked by, Maeve doing the same and instantly catching sight of that damned jersey.

_Bloody hell._

"Hello, kind sir!" Isaac called.

Jackson halted on the steps and turned around, looking at both of them. Maeve bit her tongue. He barely even brushed a glance over her at first.

"Would you be so generous as to escort me and my chair down these ridiculous steps?" Isaac prompted oh, so nicely.

"Well, I just had a cast taken off so I can't-" Jackson began.

"No, it's fine." Maeve interjected. Of course that's when Jackson decided to look at her and she inched her eyes away. There was a beat of awkward silence.

"I'm sensing a bit of tension here." Isaac said, glancing between them. There was the hint of a smirk on his face and Maeve wanted to kick him in it. "Did you two used to go out or something?"

_I am going to wheelie your ass down these fucking stairs._

"So, who broke whose heart?" He continued.

"Shut up, Issac." Maeve said. Right now, the only tension she felt was in her hands. She felt like she wanted to punch something.

"Boys," Jackson said, looking past them and Maeve glanced back to see his four peers approaching. Saved by the jocks, for once. "Could you give us a hand getting..?" He gestured to Isaac.

"Isaac."

"..Isaac a lift downstairs, please?" Jackson finished.

"Sure," one of them said, and they all approached Isaac's wheelchair.

Jackson nodded appreciatively. "Enjoy the party, Isaac." He said, and turned to descend down the steps without bothering to address Maeve once more.

_Asshole._

Jackson's friends steadied their grip on Isaac's chair and hoisted him up, righting themselves and checking their balance before moving forward. He look towards her and it was almost amusing that they were at eye level for a second.

"So I'm assuming it was you who was the breaker of hearts-" He started.

"Okay, we're done here." Maeve cut him off and headed off towards the house. The last thing she needed was to be interrogated by someone who didn't know anything about her or Jackson, least of all their failed relationship.

* * *

She had to be honest. She was quite impressed with the fact that someone like Otis could pull off such a feat as she entered the house, her eyes washing over the mass of people crowded around the door alone. She pushed the door open further, gesturing for a few people to get out of the way so Issac could be carried in and set down.

"Thank you," Isaac said. The guys nodded, one of them patting his shoulder before heading off to get lost in the crowd.

It was almost unbelievable to Maeve how they managed to disappear in the split second that she blinked.

"So," Isaac called over the sounds of the party and looked up at her. "What's first on the agenda?"

Maeve shrugged. First on her agenda was to find Otis and talk to him as Eric had suggested- But she'd be damned if she was going to do that straight sober. She would need at least a mild buzz in her system before heading into that shitshow. She glanced around, catching sight of the living room with plenty of alcohol bottles strewn about the table.

"Do you want a drink?" She asked.

Isaac smiled. "I'd love one."

The duo beelined their way to the living room, Issac giving a few warnings as his wheels narrowly missed a few shoes while Maeve simply shoved past anyone that didn't get out of her way and thus earning a couple dirty looks and murmurs. Whatever, she wasn't here for them anyway.

She snatched up one of the bottles on the table, not giving a single damn about who it belonged to, and took a seat on the stairs as Issac parked himself beside her. She twisted the cap off and took a sip, feeling the burn of the alcohol pass over her tongue and down her throat. Her face pinched for a second over the taste, but beggars couldn't be choosers and it would do the job just fine.

She surveyed the partygoers, pondering if she was hoping to catch a glimpse of Otis or not as she went. Some of them were already pretty wasted and either dancing horribly or groping and grinding against each other into oblivion to the horrid music playing over the speakers. She made another face and shook her head lightly.

_And these are the same fuckers that think they have the right to judge me._

"This isn't really my scene, to be honest." She announced to Isaac, looking at him.

The look on his face was one of 'no shit, Sherlock,' but he humored her with a smile. "What is your scene then?"

She returned the smile. "Uh, I dunno. Reading a book somewhere alone." she mused.

"People need people." Isaac replied. For a second, she could've worn he was being serious.

"Is that another NA inspirational quote by any chance?" she asked.

"No, more of a core value actually." Isaac looked back out to the party, eyes scanning the crowd when they fell on one particular fellow and he nodded his head towards him. "Who's the intense starey guy?"

Maeve followed his gaze and felt her blood chill.

_Shit._

"That's Otis," she informed him, watching as the boy in question lifted the bottle in his hand for a swig. "It's his party. Things are a bit weird between us, right now."

The way he looked back at her as he was drinking was almost mocking and it took a lot not to flip him the bird. She was supposed to be here to talk, not stir more trouble.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Isaac inquired, the curiosity in his tone making Maeve look at him for a second.

"No," she answered quickly. Probably a little too quickly.

"But you wanted him to be your boyfriend?"

_Yes._

"You're not actually psychic, you know." Maeve went on the defense, basically sneering at Isaac and his cocky know-it-all attitude.

"But I'm pretty close, right?" he said, and he seemed so damned proud of himself when he smiled.

"Don't tell me," she said. "You didn't think he would be my type."

"No, I think he is exactly your type." he responded. Still being so damn cocky. "I think he's funny and charming in a sweet, non-threatening way."

Well, he isn't wrong about that. Almost. Maeve glanced at Otis again. She barely caught him looking back.

Isaac leaned in a little. "In fact, he looks a little bit like me but less interesting. Which means I must really, really be your type then."

That did earn a laugh from Maeve and she swatted at his shoulder in a surprisingly playful manner. "Shut up!"

"Hiya!"

Their attention was drawn to Aimee and Steve approaching them and Maeve smiled a bit bigger.

"Hiya," she returned the greeting and gestured to the boy beside her. "This is my friend Isaac."

"Hiya, Isaac." Aimee said as she and Steve took seats across from him. "Why are you in a wheelchair?"

"Babes, no." Maeve was quick to try and shut her down as Steve placed a hand on her arm. "You're not supposed to-"

"It's fine." Isaac picked up the conversation and Maeve looked at him, his attention on Aimee. "It was a horrendous incident involving the wind."

Maeve's expression became one of shocked confusion, but Aimee's was one of intrigued wonder.

"Fuck off," she whispered in awe.

Well, even if the rest of the night was doomed to shit, at least Maeve could enjoy this moment of Issac amusing Aimee with his bullshit. A calm before the storm.

* * *

Scratch what she thought before. It was much more amusing watching Otis make a complete fool of himself at his own party in his living room. The way he was trying to dance and engage with the other partiers would be a story for the ages. Though while she was mildly laughing every time she glanced over to him, she could tell that he'd also had a little too much to drink and she would be a liar if she said it didn't concern her just a bit.

And that concern only grew worse the more she watched him dance and drink the night away right in front of her. Before she knew it, she and Isaac were both looking at him in disgust.

"Is this helping you to get over him?" he asked.

They shared a look, and she took a drink.

* * *

She tried to distract herself by making casual conversation with Issac, but she could still see him from the corner of her eye. She wondered if she even recognized him anymore. He was downright wasted and uncoordinated with every move, every word she could kind of see slur past his lips. She saw Eric and the new kid - Rahim, was it? - approach him, appearing to try and talk him down and for a moment her heart settled in her chest. She tried to only pay that much attention to it, deciding dancing a little would keep her from actually giving her full attention, but it was proven inevitable when she felt someone shove past her shoulders and looked up to see Jackson heading away to the door.

And then she saw Otis take another drink and follow after him.

_Fuck._

She could see Otis try and chat him up, and Jackson seemed reasonably pissed off towards him. What were they saying? Were they talking about her? Otis probably said some slick shit, probably telling him more of her business. Frustration was building up within her and she took a breath, finally looking away completely and back to Isaac.

Whatever. It didn't matter. She returned to dancing with him, trying anything to get that stupid boy off her mind until she worked up the nerve to confront him. Or until the alcohol decided to finally lend its liquid courage, which seemed to be taking forever.

...Or until Otis got a taste of his own liquid courage (more like a further taste) and approached her himself.

"Heeeey,"

Fuck was truly becoming the thought of the night tonight.

Maeve righted herself immediately and looked over at Otis, trying to keep the annoyance out of her face but failing horribly when she smelled the alcohol and sweat coming off of him. God, he was wasted. And he wasn't even looking at her, but at Isaac.

"I'm Otis," he continued. "Some people call me O-Town."

"No, they don't." Maeve interjected.

"I'm sure they do." Isaac said. Why was he entertaining him?

"Maeve and I aren't really speaking, but I can talk to you." Otis gestured to Issac. Then he gestured to her half heartedly, attempting to groove to the music with his drunken demeanor. "And we can dance, 'cause dancing isn't talking."

And he still won't fucking look at her.

She looked at Isaac with a mildly panicked smile as Otis tried to dance with more enthusiasm, moving against the banister of his staircase and holding out the bottle in his hand. It was then that he looked at her, and he was so damn close to be unrecognizable to her. This wasn't the same Otis she'd first met.

"Want some vodka?" he offered. Then he tried Isaac. "You want some?"

It was awkward, watching this pathetic excuse of what she thought was the guy she liked drink away everything instead of dealing with it. But if she called him out, she'd be a hypocrite. She could.. sympathize with him. To an extent, anyway. It's not like things had been easy for him lately either. Still, it bothered her deeply seeing him be the person he was being right then.

"Hey, Otis. Otis."

Great. Ola was here, too.

Both Otis and Maeve turned their attention to said girl, whom was carrying an abundance of items in her hands. Maeve quirked an eyebrow.

"I got my stuff. I'm leaving." she declared.

What?

"Okay, bye, Ola." He dismissed her without hesitating.

Ola looked at Maeve. "You invited her, but not me."

Maeve rolled her eyes and turned away, crossing her arms.

"No, I didn't invite her. Eric invited her without my knowledge." Otis clarified like it made the situation any better. His gaze fell on her with piercing scrutiny. "I didn't want her here at all."

_...Ouch._

Maeve took a shaky breath, her features scrunching up in hurt and offense. There it was. All the confirmation she needed to know that deciding to listen to Eric and come to this party to try and make amends was a fucking mistake.

"I think I'm gonna go, too." she said, glaring daggers at him. She turned around and set the bottle in her hand down on the steps.

"Maeve, Ola. Stay, please." Otis said. She turned around. "Please stay. I have something to tell you. I have something to tell both of you." He set his own bottle down on the table and turned away from them, stumbling slightly towards the couch. He glanced back. "I'm gonna tell everyone, because I can."

_Oh, no._

Otis climbed up on his couch, stumbling over the kid sitting there while uttering an apology and standing up completely to face the crowd. Maeve looked at Ola, knowing in her gut that this wasn't going to be good.

"Excuse me, everyone!" Otis shouted over the noise with his hands cupped around his mouth. "Everyone- everyone look at me, I have an announcement to make. Can we turn the music down?" He shuffled awkwardly as everyone quieted down and the music shut off, his hands balled at his side. "Um, I wanna say something.. to my party guests." He cleared his throat and pointed to Ola.

"Um, so, this is Ola." He went on. "Don't know if you know her, she... qu-quite little and.. and funny and interesting and pretty and... she was my girlfriend until she told me I can't see Maeve" - he gestured and looked to her - "anymore."

Go figure she wasn't surprised that Ola was the ringleader behind Otis saying he couldn't see her anymore.

Otis' voice lowered a bit. "Now we all know Maeve." He waved his hands slightly in exaggeration. "Scary Maeve. You know, she not actually scary, she's just pretending." He amplified his voice in a loud whisper, like purposely blowing a huge secret.

Technically, he was. That's how the crowd took it anyway as they giggled and murmured about themselves.

"Anyway, Maeve told me that she liked me." Otis continued, and Maeve felt her cheeks start to burn. "Okay? And I like Maeve. I like Maeve a lot. A lot more than I liked Ola."

Maeve didn't have to turn her head to know that Ola's face had fallen to disappointed hurt and embarrassment. Because hers did, too.

"Otis, Otis, get-" Eric urged, but was brushed off as Otis kept talking.

"But I was trying to be a good 'boyfriend'," - he accented the word with quotations - "so I said to Maeve, 'sorry, I can't see you anymore.'" He pointed at Ola again. "And then, Ola dumped me." Murmurs stirred up in the crowd again, glances being passed along them and towards the girls. "Yeah, it's confusing. I was confused. But I thought, 'probably a good thing,' 'cause I just really wanted to be with Maeve. And I didn't really want to be with Ola."

Gasps surfaced around them. Maeve's arms found themselves crossed again, her fingers digging into the sweater that was draped over her. His fucking sweater. It was feeling less and less warm by the second as he talked.

"And then I realized, Maeve Wiley just likes playing with people's feelings."

He was looking directly at her.

And like that, her heart sank in her chest. She felt winded. Her eyes started to burn and she could feel Ola's eyes on her. Her fingers gripped tighter.

"And she doesn't really care about anyone else. Like, she brought this man" - he gestured to Isaac and she looked at him, him shaking his head at her before looking back to Otis - "with her, I don't know, probably just here to make me jealous. Definitely didn't work."

_Sure it didn't, you entitled prick._

"Definitely did." Isaac whispered.

_And you, too._

"All in all, I think she's probably the most selfish person I've ever met." Otis said. The tears were starting to pool in her eyes, threatening to fall. "And I think it's good that I'm not going out with either of them, because I think I deserve a whole lot more." He concluded with clasping his hands together so casually, as if he hadn't just humiliated her and Ola in front of most of the goddamn school. "Thank you for coming," he said, clapping. "Goodnight- not goodnight, stay. Enjoy yourselves. Music on please!" He clapped towards the general area of where the music was coming from earlier.

Suddenly, the sweater felt like nothing on her body anymore.

And as if to just pour more fucking salt in the wound:

"You're welcome to him." Ola said to her, her tone laced with poisonous disgust. And she stormed off as Otis came in their direction once more, shoving past him. Maeve turned away.

"What is her problem?" He muttered, and she had to ask herself if he was being serious or fucking around.

Maeve gritted her teeth and grabbed the hem of the sweater - Otis' sweater - and tugged it over her head carelessly, yanking it without a goddamn care in the world off of herself and facing him with the tears that had built in her eyes before now starting to run down her cheeks. She shoved the sweater in his hands, harshly pushing him back as she did so.

"You're an asshole." she growled through her teeth and rushed past him. Past all the looks and whispers and glares. Her vision was stinging and blurry and she forced her way through the people crowded at the door, throwing it open and hurrying out into the biting night air. A choked sob escaped her throat over the sound of her shoes thudding against the steps as she rushed up them, trying to wipe at her eyes and instead smearing her makeup.

_Fucking Otis. Fucking party. Fucking people._

She didn't know who to hate more. Herself for showing up, or Otis for being a massive prick and shaming her in front of everyone. If she hadn't of come, he wouldn't of had shit to say. But if he hadn't of acting like such an asshole, none of this would've went down in the first place.

Just went to show that she wasn't truly meant to have anyone in her life that actually cared about her. Hell, she knew it was only a matter of time before everything would fuck up with her mother and sister again. And probably Aimee, too. She knew it. Her dad fucked off before she was born, her mother screwed her over before, her brother disappeared again, she couldn't love Jackson and hurt him, and Otis... Otis...

"Maeve!"

Otis?

She turned around to see him scrambling up the steps, narrowly slipping as he went due to him impaired sense of balance. Hatred bubbled up within her again and she huffed, turning away to leave once more.

"Maeve, wait!" Otis gasped as he finally reached the top of his stairs. He hunched over and clasped his hand on his knees, heaving a little and burping quietly. "Fuck me.." he groaned, panting through it all.

"What, Otis?" Maeve said. She faced him again, not even pitying his current state of nearly throwing up. "What? Are you gonna call me out again? Make me feel like shit? Yeah, let's do it right here for the whole fucking world to hear this time, right?"

"Maeve, I- I'm sorry.." Otis uttered. He tried to pick his head up to look at her, but dropped it again when he swayed back on his heels. "I'm sorry-"

"No. You're not fucking sorry. And I know you're not fucking sorry because all you've been doing since I met you is fucking me over!" Maeve's voice raised, but it sounded more broken and hurt than angry. "And even if you had the common fucking sense to be sorry, you don't get to be sorry after the shit you said in there in front of everyone."

"I didn't mean it-"

"Oh, you didn't?" Maeve threw her arms open, looking around at the very few people still straggling about outside. It didn't matter if none of them were inside when Otis made a scene. She was angry. She was hurt. And she wanted him to know just how much. "You hear that, everyone? He didn't mean it! Now we can all whole hands and sing fucking Kumbaya until the goddamn sun comes up!"

Otis finally managed to right himself, his free hand over his chest as his still tried to correct his breathing and not throw up in front of her. Maeve hesitated for the splittest of seconds when she saw the sweater still gripped in his other hand at his side. "Maeve, please stop-"

Her blood was boiling. Her body was shaking. Her face was a mess with tears. Her mind was racing, swmming, and she'd like to claim her body was working on it's own accord as she stomped forward and shoved him back hard enough for him to collapse on his ass. He gagged and folded over at his side to be sick all over the gravel. He coughed and hacked, body swaying slightly.

Maeve made a face. "Fuck you, Otis Milburn."

And with that, she tried to leave again when she heard the gravel shuffling behind her and grunts of effort, which she could only assume was Otis getting back to his feet.

"I love you, Maeve!"

She froze. She could hear Otis' labored breathing and looked over her shoulder. He was trying to follow her again and doing a shit job at it most likely because he just puked his brains out.

"No, you don't Otis." she said. "Someone who loved me wouldn't of said the shit you did back there." She shook her head. "I don't know what you think love is, but it's not that."

"I-I know I fucked up.." Otis slurred. He stood up straight again, gripping that damn sweater to his chest and looking down at it like he couldn't bear to look at her. "I know it.. I was just.. just hurt and angry and..."

"So you're the only one that's hurt and angry?" Maeve asked.

"No!" he yelped. He shook his head and lowered his voice. "No, no.. I don't think that at all, I... compared to the shit you've put up with in your life, I don't think I have a right to be hurt and angry."

Hm. For a second, he almost sounded coherently sober.

He shrugged lamely. "I didn't know what else to do." He said. "Between not being able to see you and being dumped afterwards, I felt... stuck. Like I'd sacrificed what I wanted to try and make what I thought I wanted happy... just to lose that, too." His hands tightened around the sweater. "So I got angry and took it out on you and Ola... instead of blaming myself for choosing wrong in the first place."

"What do you mean in the first place?"

Maeve now fully faced him once again, her arms coming up to cross over her chest. That's when Otis picked his gaze up to look at her. And it was the most proper way he'd looked at her all evening. She could see the emotion in his eyes, even at a distance and through the drunkeness. It made her heart skip in her chest.

"I've loved you ever since I first started talking to you, Maeve." He said. The way he blinked clued her in that he was starting to cry himself and she dropped her arms. "But I didn't think you could ever like me back.. And when you told me you did, I got even more angry... and sad... so I shoved you and those feelings away and tried to cover it all up with Ola..." Otis shook his head with shame. "It was a mistake.. I used her to get over you and I hurt both of you in the end..." He took a shuddering breath, dropping his head. "I'm a real dickhead..."

Maeve swallowed thickly, eyeing him up and down with a tempted smile tugging at the corner of her lip upon hearing him use her nickname for him. Even in this context, it was amusing. She couldn't deny that much. "Yeah." she said, and that got him to look at her again. "You are."

"Maeve, I... I would do anything to make it up to you. I swear it." Otis said.

She hesitated. Did she really believe everything he'd just said? Did she really believe that he was sorry? Most importantly, did she really believe that he... loved her? Would forgiving Otis for all the fucked up shit he said back in the party be worth it? After all, she didn't truly mean what she said earlier about him either. About how all he'd done since she meant him was fuck her over. Sure, he'd slipped up here and there but... She also had a lot of fun with him. The clinic, the pool, just genuinely chatting with him... She missed those moments.

She missed that Otis.

"Anything?"

Otis nodded enthusiastically, which honestly just made him seem like a bobblehead with his still mildly drunken self. "Y-yes, anything."

"... Then you can start by apologizing to Ola."

Otis looked at her with confusion. "Why do you care about me apologizing to Ola-"

"Do you really want to ask questions or do you want to make it up to me, dickhead?" She interrupted, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry." he said. "You got it. Apologize to Ola."

Maeve nodded. "Yep. And then I want you to write a thousand word essay on just how much of an asshole you really are."

"What?"

"Due tomorrow." She turned around and started walking away before calling back, "See you in school!"

"Y-yeah, see you!" Otis called back. The hint of confused happiness in his voice made her smile to herself as she wiped her face free of the remaining tears and crossed her arms over herself, shivering. Maybe she also should've asked for the sweater back. Oh, well.

_Fuck you and your stupid party, Otis Milburn._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Yeah, yeah, I know the ending is a little rough but I haven't written in over a year and was struggling to even get this one out. There is an alternate ending that I had in mind that was a bit clunkier in terms of making sense and pacing, but if you guys want to see it I'll happily type it up and add it on in a separate chapter.**
> 
> **Anyway, it feels good to be back. Stay safe, and happy holidays!**


	2. Alternate Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the alternate ending you all requested to see :).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Alright, so I received some requests for the alternate ending. I've also received some requests to continue the story in general. I'll be honest, I can't really guarantee that I'll write another chapter for this story in particular. However I do have another oneshot for Maeve and Otis in the works that I'll hopefully be returning to work to soon. But I've also been trying to put focus into the Miraculous Ladybug stories that have laid abandoned for over a year. It's a slow process returning to writing, as in sure many of you understand.**
> 
> **Regardless, here is the alternate ending I mentioned. It'll be a repeat for a bit before it diverts into the alternation for the sake of word count.**

"Maeve!"

Otis?

She turned around to see him scrambling up the steps, narrowly slipping as he went due to him impaired sense of balance. Hatred bubbled up within her again and she huffed, turning away to leave once more.

"Maeve, wait!" Otis gasped as he finally reached the top of his stairs. He hunched over and clasped his hand on his knees, heaving a little and burping quietly. "Fuck me.." he groaned, panting through it all.

"What, Otis?" Maeve said. She faced him again, not even pitying his current state of nearly throwing up. "What? Are you gonna call me out again? Make me feel like shit? Yeah, let's do it right here for the whole fucking world to hear this time, right?"

"Maeve, I- I'm sorry.." Otis uttered. He tried to pick his head up to look at her, but dropped it again when he swayed back on his heels. "I'm sorry-"

"No. You're not fucking sorry. And I know you're not fucking sorry because all you've been doing since I met you is fucking me over!" Maeve's voice raised, but it sounded more broken and hurt than angry. "And even if you had the common fucking sense to be sorry, you don't get to be sorry after the shit you said in there in front of everyone."

"I didn't mean it-"

"Oh, you didn't?" Maeve threw her arms open, looking around at the very few people still straggling about outside. It didn't matter if none of them were inside when Otis made a scene. She was angry. She was hurt. And she wanted him to know just how much. "You hear that, everyone? He didn't mean it! Now we can all hold hands and sing fucking Kumbaya until the goddamn sun comes up!"

Otis finally managed to right himself, his free hand over his chest as his still tried to correct his breathing and not throw up in front of her. Maeve hesitated for the splittest of seconds when she saw the sweater still gripped in his other hand at his side. "Maeve, please stop-"

Her blood was boiling. Her body was shaking. Her face was a mess with tears. Her mind was racing, swmming, and she'd like to claim her body was working on it's own accord as she stomped forward and shoved him back hard enough for him to collapse on his ass. He gagged and folded over at his side to be sick all over the gravel. He coughed and hacked, body swaying slightly.

Maeve made a face. "Fuck you, Otis Milburn."

And with that, she tried to leave again when she heard the gravel shuffling behind her and grunts of effort, which she could only assume was Otis getting back to his feet.

"I love you, Maeve!"

She froze. She could hear Otis' labored breathing and looked over her shoulder. He was trying to follow her again and doing a shit job at it most likely because he just puked his brains out.

"No, you don't Otis." she said. "Someone who loved me wouldn't of said the shit you did back there." She shook her head. "I don't know what you think love is, but it's not that."

"I-I know I fucked up.." Otis slurred. He stood up straight again, gripping that damn sweater to his chest and looking down at it like he couldn't bear to look at her. "I know it.. I was just.. just hurt and angry and..."

"So you're the only one that's hurt and angry?" Maeve asked.

"No!" he yelped. He shook his head and lowered his voice. "No, no.. I don't think that at all, I... compared to the shit you've put up with in your life, I don't think I have a right to be hurt and angry."

Hm. For a second, he almost sounded coherently sober.

He shrugged lamely. "I didn't know what else to do." He said. "Between not being able to see you and being dumped afterwards, I felt... stuck. Like I'd sacrificed what I wanted to try and make what IthoughtI wanted happy... just to lose that, too." His hands tightened around the sweater. "So I got angry and took it out on you and Ola... instead of blaming myself for choosing wrong in the first place."

"What do you mean in the first place?"

Maeve now fully faced him once again, her arms coming up to cross over her chest. That's when Otis picked his gaze up to look at her. And it was the most proper way he'd looked at her all evening. She could see the emotion in his eyes, even at a distance and through the drunkeness. It made her heart skip in her chest.

"I've loved you ever since I first started talking to you, Maeve." He said. The way he blinked clued her in that he was starting to cry himself and she dropped her arms. "But I didn't think you could ever like me back.. And when you told me you did, I got even more angry... and sad... so I shoved you and those feelings away and tried to cover it all up with Ola..." Otis shook his head with shame. "It was a mistake.. I used her to get over you and I hurt both of you in the end..." He took a shuddering breath, dropping his head. "I'm a real dickhead..."

Maeve swallowed thickly, eyeing him up and down with a tempted smile tugging at the corner of her lip upon hearing him use her nickname for him. Even in this context, it was amusing. She couldn't deny that much. "Yeah." she said, and that got him to look at her again. "You are."

"Maeve, I... I would do anything to make it up to you. I swear it." Otis said.

She hesitated. Did she really believe everything he'd just said? Did she really believe that he was sorry? Most importantly, did she really believe that he... loved her? Would forgiving Otis for all the fucked up shit he said back in the party be worth it? After all, she didn't truly mean what she said earlier about him either. About how all he'd done since she meant him was fuck her over. Sure, he'd slipped up here and there but... She also had a lot of fun with him. The clinic, the pool, just genuinely chatting with him... She missed those moments.

She missed that Otis.

"Anything?"

Otis nodded enthusiastically, which honestly just made him seem like a bobblehead with his still mildly drunken self. "Y-yes, anything."

"... Then you can start by apologizing to Ola."

Otis looked at her with confusion. "Why do you care about me apologizing to Ola-"

"Do you really want to ask questions or do you want to make it up to me, dickhead?" She interrupted, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry." he said. "You got it. Apologize to Ola."

Maeve nodded. "Yep. And then I want you to write a thousand word essay on just how much of an asshole you really are."

Otis' eyes went wide for a second, and he nearly swayed on his feet again as if he was winded by the idea. "Seriously?"

Maeve nodded again, now smiling a little at him. "Due tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Otis echoed. "There's no way I can write that by tomorrow, especially not with a hangover, and I still need to get rid of everyone in my house and clean up-"

"Should've thought about that before you went and made an ass of yourself." Maeve countered. She quirked an eyebrow.

Otis sulked. "...I deserved that." he muttered.

Maeve almost chuckled. She knew she was being just a bit too harsh on him, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't still pissed off at him. At the very least, she would make him reap a little of what he sewed. And yet she also pitied him over the thought of how hard it would be to recover from the party. House and all. She huffed a sigh and started towards him. "Tell you what. I'll help you get everyone out of your house with Eric and help you clean up. But after that, you're on your own." she offered. "Can't give you too easy of a way out."

"I'd appreciate that.." Otis said. His tone had at least picked up a bit.

Now she smiled more genuinely and glanced down at the sweater still clutched in his hands with a nod. "I'll also take that back if you don't mind."

He looked at the sweater with a bit of surprise, pausing as the gears started to turn in his head slowly through the alcohol induced haze. Then, finally, he raised his hand in extension to return the sweater to her.

"Thank you." Maeve said, taking it from him and folding it over her arms. She'd be damned if she gave him the satisfaction of putting it back on immediately.

"N-no problem." Otis replied.

There was a moment of silence between them, like the world had stopped turning long enough to let this moment linger. He stared at her, she stared back. There was an itch in her hands, an urge to hug him or something. Her body was seeking some form of comfort from him, _this_ Otis that she had come to know. And as if he could sense it, he took a timid step closer to her with his arms lifting in offering. Naturally she had to keep up her bravado with an eye roll to cover up her actual relief as she gave in to the hug. And it took every ounce of restraint to not truly fall into him. To not rest practically all of her body weight against his in near complete exhaustion from keeping up her facade. It didn't feel quite the same as the first time she'd hugged him those few weeks ago. Granted, a hug after her abortion was nice and it made her feel better along with the flowers and sandwich, but... this was different. She was still angry at him, was still keeping some walls up until he followed through on his words, but just for a moment she wanted to drop it all in the embrace.

Not even Jackson could bring out that kind of feeling in her.

Otis finally reeled back enough to meet her eyes, and it's when she looked back at him that she felt a bit of wetness pooling at the corners of her eyes. She hurriedly blinked it away and cleared her throat lightly. It felt like the moment was finally breaking, though Otis seemed to be contemplating something. Confirming her suspicion he started to lean forward, eyes closing and lips puckering.

Her head jerked back mildly and she held up a hand between them. Yep, moment definitely broken.

"What are you doing?" she questioned.

Otis' eyes flew open, widening even more so in moderate horror as he jumped back away from her. "Ah, uh, fuck, sorry.." he stuttered out.

"You've got sick and alcohol on your breath and you wanted to kiss me?" She had to stop her lips from twitching into an amused smile.

_What an idiot._

"I- uh- caught in the moment-" Otis said, looking down and fidgeting with his hands in embarrassment. "It was stupid, I'm sorry-"

"Get inside before I change my mind about helping you, dickhead."

Otis nodded stiffly and turned about face, Maeve choking back stifled laughter at how he nearly toppled over from moving so fast. She watched him awkwardly march back towards his house and shook her head lightly, starting after him after another second.

_Fuck you and your stupid party, Otis Milburn._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So... yeah. That's the alternate ending. I hope you guys enjoyed, and will join me on the next adventure with these two should I manage to get my next oneshot out in the future.**
> 
> **Stay safe out there.**


End file.
